


Feeding on Fever

by EnRaa



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Slash, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnRaa/pseuds/EnRaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a feeling unlike any he'd ever felt before...</p><p>Like being encompassed in fire, choking as the smoke of lust filled his vents to the brim and robbed his processor of clarity. </p><p>Desire burned through his circuits like lava, white hot and singeing everything in its path as it pierced his spark and swelled his hardware.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeding on Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to some Monster Magnet and what was supposed to be a super productive 'hammer out some request fics' session turned into a 'let's write Rampage self-servicing to DC' session...
> 
> There's no excuse here. 
> 
> Just shame... 
> 
> Enjoy!! :)

It started in his spark; Not the sharp contraction Rampage had come to associate with the Predacon leader, but instead warmth.

Warmth that thrummed like radiation through his entire frame.

Surely there was something wrong, but Rampage couldn't quite put his finger on the problem. He'd never known anything to cause much feeling in his spark, and certainly nothing he'd associate with a relatively good feeling.

But here it was, unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

It was nothing he could initially give a name to, but as it built up with each passing moment and became something more than a nagging heat without a source, he began to recognize it.

That sudden rush when his old playmate would make a particularly vicious quip or comment that tickled that part of his processor only Depth Charge could reach...Or when the manta was pinned beneath the sheer mass of his nemesis, helpless...

Yes, he knew this feeling...

He knew it well.

Each pulse from his spark was like being encompassed in fire, and Rampage felt like he was choking as the smoke of lust filled his vents to the brim and robbed his processor of clarity.

It elicited the most interesting thoughts, thoughts the former experiment had never shown much interest in before but were always in the background.

Thoughts of the Maximal spread out beneath him, taking anything he could throw at him... Baring himself to Rampage's every whim...

Writhing, sobbing...

Wanting.

Desire burned through his circuits like lava, white hot and singeing everything in its path as it pierced his spark and swelled his hardware.

Pressure built and built in his spark, heat churned in the belly of his tanks, and if the crab weren't so sure of what this feeling was, he'd relate it to the panic he once felt on Omicron.

But this was so much different from that.

Need, beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

The need to possess. To dominate.

To own the Maximal he shared such an intimate history with.

With a groan, Rampage let his codpiece slide back, exposing his rapidly pressurizing spike to the cool air of the shore. The breeze coming off the ocean did little to deter him, too far gone in his frenzy.

Rampage wrapped a servo around his spike tentatively, adjusting his grip a few times to try and familiarize himself with the process again.

He'd done it before, could vaguely remember being back on Omicron when the scientists had decided to test how responsive he was to physical stimulation, and tried to mimic their actions, as well as what they had instructed him to do.

It felt odd, something he didn't particularly care for. No matter how much he tried to find a rhythm, a particular position to hold his servo, the feeling wasn't enough for him.

He needed something more.

Even the image of his old playmate wasn't enough to keep that fire burning, and he could feel the heat ebbing away.

But not the pressure.

Not the need.

With a roar of frustration, Rampage tore his servo from his hardware like he'd been burned and brought it to his chest piece, ripping the thick metal away with a pained growl and reaching in after the culprit of his torment.

How else was he supposed to respond to something that would just nag at him and not be fixed? Obviously his array wasn't going to help him. Were his circuits damaged in his crash onto this planet?

Was this some sickening tease that Megatron had concocted?

Whatever was the case, he needed to deal with the pressure in his spark. Perhaps pain would cause the hot pressure and energy to dissipate. Maybe even just distract him long enough for it to taper off.

Reaching his servo inside, he could feel stray tendrils of energy and static reaching out and shocking his fingers and palm, making little crackling sounds on impact.

It was like they were pulling him closer... Drawing him in.

Fingers brushed over his spark and it was like an icy wind was blown through his entire frame, then it super heated all over again.

A feeling so unlike touching his spike, where the ache just became more intense until finally it reached a peak, this was so foreign, so new...

Raw and carnal, something so natural to him.

His spark was like touching the flame directly, stroking the need right where it started. Even the drive he had gotten from stimulating his hardware in the past wasn't like this...

Energy burned at his fingertips as he rolled the static-riddled ball around in his servo, and bolts of pleasure rocketed through his flame like he was being struck down.

Rampage dropped to his knees, one servo clawing deep into the sand below and the other wreaking complete havoc on his frame. He let his desire control his actions, stroking and petting his spark, feeling it grow with tension and pulse harder with each and every touch.

No touch was too much, stimulation just being a key and not a puzzle, and the crab was sure he was going to fry something if he kept this up... His frame was becoming feverish, hotter than the Pits.

His processor was loud and buzzing with thoughts of the manta, thoughts he didn't think he was capable of... He wasn't in control here, and Rampage just allowed the thoughts to run rampant.

Clawing at the shell of his spark was the last straw.

Stronger than any stasis lock, any explosion or electrocution. His systems overloaded hard, nearly knocking him offline.

Barely, just barely, Rampage stayed online, but his energy was dangerously low.

He felt lethargic, drained completely. Nano-kliks were like entire solar-cycles as he waited for his systems to finally respond.

The need to recover and rest was too great. Though his frame had thoroughly enjoyed the reactions from thinking of his nemesis, an attack from the manta would be most unfortunate.

Moving was difficult, each appendage moving so slowly he could barely make it into the water, much less transform.

Cool water hitting his hot plating was like being tossed directly into paradise, sucking the last vestiges of that uncomfortable heat from his frame and bringing with that delicious comfort the heaviness of a much-deserved recharge.

Settling at the ocean floor, Rampage allowed himself to relax, and for once, his spark was not rampant with energy, or uncomfortable feelings.

Everything was quiet.

Blissful.

  
  


END


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